


Dream a little dream of me

by DropsOfAutumn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 'legendary soulmate fruit', Almost Kiss, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boys In Love, But make it plural, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Kind of post s7 fix-it, M/M, Meet-Cute, Paladin Friendships, Slow Burn, Space Magic, Space fruits that induce dreams, a lot of pining, mention of soulmates, pining shiro, soft, there is no season 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:35:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22862623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DropsOfAutumn/pseuds/DropsOfAutumn
Summary: As the sleek, black Galra speeder lands in the hangar, Shiro feels the vibrations crawl underneath his skin.The sight is familiar; he would recognize the ship anywhere, and it makes his chest tighten and his lips curl upwards into a smile.He knows exactly how this will go, and yet his heart skips a beat as soon as he spots his favourite mop of black hair standing in the entry of the Galra cruiser. The man’s gestures are always the same: one of his hands will loop the duffle bag over his shoulder while the other will swipe his braided hair back with a swift flick of his wrist.The next part is Shiro’s favourite. He will never get enough of the smile on his friend’s face as he spots him, but it’s nothing compared to the way he greets him, every time without fail.“Hey, old-timer. Did you miss me?”Shiro exhales a breath he did not know he has been holding.Keith is back.***Or: The one in which Shiro needs three meet-cutes to get his act together.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Minor Allura/Lance - Relationship
Comments: 58
Kudos: 224
Collections: Sheithlentines 2020





	Dream a little dream of me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sugarcubeshiro](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarcubeshiro/gifts).



> Hi [Blue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarcubeshiro), this is your [Sheithlentines 2020](https://twitter.com/mysheithlentine) gift. You said you like Meet-Cutes, so I wrote 3.  
> I had so much fun writing all the Paladins together, and Keith and Shiro being deeply in love and best friends.  
> I really hope you like my take on your prompts. ♡ 
> 
> This piece ignores any existence of Season 8 or the epilogue and is set after the war is won. It attempts to fix a few open ends and adds a lot of pining as well as soft and tender Sheith. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Kids, don't eat any space fruits before checking with Coran!  
> This story includes an alien banana which helps Shiro realize his feelings. Please note that this fruit is not a drug and does not influence any thoughts and actions, but causes Shiro to have dreams. :) 
> 
> ** 
> 
> Biggest thank you to THE BESTEST [Christie](https://twitter.com/appetixing), who helped me fight through this piece. I hit some serious writer's block halfway and this fic had me so frustrated. I'm finally content with the flow after LONG discussions with Christie and I'll be forever grateful ♡♡♡ 
> 
> ALSO big THANK YOU to [abbey](https://twitter.com/sepiacigarettes) for reading over the unfinished draft and pushing me into the right direction! ♡♡♡ 
> 
> ** 
> 
> Have fun ♡

As the sleek, black Galra speeder lands in the hangar, Shiro feels the vibrations crawl underneath his skin.

He’s used to the noises by now, has seen spaceships come and go about a thousand times in the span of the last year. And still, the breath gets stuck in his throat as soon as the speeder rolls into its designated parking position.

Had someone told him before his launch to Kerberos years ago that space travel would become such a casual thing as checking your PADD for the weather forecast, he would have laughed at them, before beaming about the sheer possibilities.  
  
He had learned the hard way that space travel could come with a price, with a downside, with a war that had cost thousands of lives. Today, Shiro can’t help but feel glad about the changes the intergalactic war had brought them. Had brought  _ him _ . 

He makes his way to the speeder with firm and swift steps, head high and shoulders straight, every inch of him emitting the authority his position as the Admiral of the Atlas brought along, making officers scramble to their feet and salute him.

But Shiro does not see them, not when his eyes are fixed on the Galran ship. The sight is familiar; he would recognize the ship anywhere, and it makes his chest tighten and his lips curl upwards into a smile. If it brings a certain spring to his steps, he does not care. 

He knows exactly how this will go, and yet his heart skips a beat as soon as he spots his favourite mop of black hair standing in the entry of the Galra cruiser. The man’s gestures are always the same: one of his hands will loop the duffle bag over his shoulder while the other will swipe his braided hair back with a swift flick of his wrist.    
  
The next part is Shiro’s favourite. He will never get enough of the smile on his friend’s face as he spots him, but it’s nothing compared to the way he greets him, every time without fail.  
  
“Hey, old-timer. Did you miss me?”   
  
Shiro exhales a breath he did not know he has been holding.   
  
Keith is back.  
  
  
**  
  
  
When the war was over and Zarkon defeated, the Paladins of Voltron returned to Earth.    
  
Saving the universe had cost them the lions when the sentinels had volunteered to sacrifice themselves for the cause.    


Shiro still remembers Pidge and Hunk crying when their lions gave them a last nudge with their snouts; Lance’s voice, blabbering his goodbyes to Red while trying his best not to cry; and the sight of Allura’s forehead pressed to Blue as they communicated silently..   
  
There was a bitter smile on Keith’s face as he gave Black a last caring pat before he turned his back – and walked straight to Shiro. 

“She wants to say goodbye,” he said while he reached for his arm, fingers wrapping around Shiro’s wrist. Keith’s actions had taken him by surprise, making him stumble forward to the lion. He had lost the connection to Black long ago and still there she was, her familiar warmth nuzzling against his thoughts, a comforting lull. 

_ Thank you _ , she said.  _ Thank you both _ .    
  
And as he looked into Keith’s face, he could see the same tear running down his cheek that he could feel in the corner of his eyes as they watched the lions depart.

Afterward, time flew by in a blur. Shiro still remembers the festivities, remembers the cheers and claps on his shoulder from Iverson, remembers Sanda pinning a badge to his uniform and placing a medal around his neck.   
  
The thing he remembers the most is Lance bending down on one knee and asking Allura to marry him. And Allura’s confused face before Pidge showed mercy and explained the situation before Lance’s proposal got too awkward. 

The engagement was just another excuse to party for a week before reality settled in and Shiro was faced with the first mountain of paperwork to sign and ambassadors to welcome. The Garrison knew how to use the former Black Paladin of Voltron and the newly crowned Admiral of the Atlas as a poster child all too well. 

So it was mostly from behind his desk that Shiro noticed his friends dispense. 

Slowly but surely.   


Pidge was the first, burying herself in her research and late-night coding sessions before she announced one day she would go to Olkarion to do some specific research on her new top-secret project.    
  
Then came Lance and Allura, only a few days after Pidge’s farewell party so wild Shiro’s head was still throbbing when they announced their planned departure. New Altea needed a leader and Allura was keen to help rebuild a home for her people and strengthen the newly-blossomed alliance with the Garrison from scratch. Lance was happy to follow her everywhere, weirdly quiet about the fact that marrying Allura would make him ruler of New Altea. 

Years ago, Lance would have gone and trumpeted the new title out to everyone. This Lance was just happy to place a hand on Allura’s shoulder in support. He still wouldn’t let the opportunity go to waste to send a smug grin into Keith’s direction, though. With a smile, Shiro kept the comment to himself as he saw them off.    
  
Hunk and Romelle stayed another week longer before Hunk announced he found a nice little restaurant close to the Garrison. The end of the war had brought intergalactic travel to Earth, along with new spices and new ingredients, making the city outside of the Garrison burst with humans and alien races alike trying to make the best of the ruins. New shops, restaurants and markets were opening everywhere, bringing life to the desert.   
  
Romelle decided to tag along, having made it her mission to try as many of Hunk’s new culinary inventions as possible. Shiro had the nagging suspicion that she disliked being cooped up in the metal walls of the Garrison and used the buzzing business of Hunk’s customers to learn as much of Terran culture as possible.    
  
A month after they left, Shiro managed a first visit, prompted by Keith who dragged him out to ‘catch some fresh air.’ And Shiro was grateful for his attempt. Keith lingered the longest, his only answer a shrug when Shiro asked him over dinner at Hunk’s restaurant what kept him on Earth when his mom had returned to Daibazaal.    
  
“They don’t need me up there.”

Shiro knew him too well to not read between the lines: Keith was a champion in talking himself down. In feeling unwanted, unneeded.    
  
But they did need him. Shiro had seen Keith communicate with Krolia pretty often, and he feared it was only a matter of time before she asked Keith to join her.   
  
So it was Shiro who addressed the topic again on their way back to the Garrison. They had stopped to watch the sunset at the spot that used to be their favourite. It was Shiro who bumped shoulders with him, telling Keith to go, follow the call of the stars. Even if Shiro’s heart screamed for him to pull him in his arms and ask for him to stay.   
  
Keith promised to call, to send pictures. With every picture of Kosmo rolled up in his cockpit, every picture of an exploding supernova Shiro received, his longing for the stars grew stronger. 

And so did his longing for the one starlight he would never stop chasing.

**  
  


Shiro is always made awfully aware of his longing every time Keith enters the orbit in his sleek space cruiser, turning heads in the Garrison and making Shiro’s heart do somersaults. 

Keith  _ tried _ to make it to Earth, he really did, at least once a month, he had promised.    
  
But a month turned into two, and another time one month turned into four; his visits were always too short, always colliding with Shiro’s most important meetings. Of course all of them were the most important ones.

Sometimes Shiro was happy if they managed to meet for lunch. One especially frustrating visit had them talk for exactly five minutes in the Garrison hangar, exchanging quick hugs and sorry smiles, before Keith headed back to the stars and Shiro had to go and teach cadets how to fly. 

He still feels sorry for the way he had barked at his students half an hour later.    
  
  
**

  
Drawing Keith into a hug is a swift motion, well-known, one that comes to him as naturally as breathing.

He hears Keith’s duffle bag slide to the floor a second before the arm that is not trapped between their bodies sweeps around his chest. Where it belongs.   
  
“You’re early”, Shiro muffles into the black hair, and he feels Keith’s smile press against his chest. 

And if he tightens their embrace a little, holds Keith for a second longer than necessary, he doesn’t mind. He’s pretty sure the officers in the hangar shrug it off as just Paladin things anyway. So it’s okay to breathe Keith’s scent in a bit too deep.   
  
He’s missed the smell of dust and sand. The smell of freedom.   
  
“Mom sent me to help with the Val’run negotiations.” 

Shiro hates to let him go, but they have already exceeded the time acceptable for an Admiral to hug his old friend in the hangar by far. 

Keith seems to let go easily and Shiro can’t say it does not hurt.    
  
Shiro feels a familiar nudge against his arm, the cold and wet snout of a tiny space puppy, trapped in the body of a giant space wolf. “Hi, Kosmo. You’ve grown again!” 

Shiro is happy to deliver the demanded pets and ear scratches, the space wolf letting out a happy bark in greeting. From the corner of his eye, Shiro sees Keith shake his head while he rolls his eyes at his wolf.   
  
“I thought Kosmo and I could spend some more time with our favourite Paladin,” Keith explains with a shrug as he picks up the bag and throws it over his shoulder casually. Still, the gesture is enough to devastate Shiro. It’s only been a few months, not even ten weeks since he’s last seen Keith, but the pull is strong.    
  
“Lance will be happy to hear that.” 

The laugh Shiro gets as a reply is enough to make his stomach flip and it hits him just how much he has missed this, missed Keith. Video calls and comms are nothing compared to how easy Keith’s shoulder bumps against his, a playful shove.    
  
It’s going to be a long week.    
  
**   
  
Between dying, waking up in your clone’s body and fighting an intergalactic war, the one thing Shiro had feared the most was confessing his love to his best friend.

It was always later, tomorrow, once both of them had a moment to breathe. 

But the moment never came.    
  
As it turns out, nine months is all it takes for the Garrison to turn from war-mode into full-blown bureaucracy again. Too soon, Shiro is buried underneath a pile of paperwork and trapped in one diplomatic meeting after the other. And it’s starting to show when the only Paladin he’s having regular contact with is Pidge – and that’s only because she usually goes to bed when Shiro wakes up. He knows better than to scold her.   
  
He should be happy. It’s all he’s ever wanted. And yet, he feels terribly empty.

So he takes joy in knowing that Keith will be happy, on his way to the stars. 

It’s for the best that he hasn’t confessed, Shiro tells himself. 

He knows deep down Keith would never be fully free if he let his whole life revolve around Shiro when space was calling for him. Keith was meant for greater things than roaming the Garrison to stay close to him.    
  
That’s why, after Keith has been selfless for him thousands of times, Shiro does the one selfless thing that hurts the most.   
  
He lets him go.   
  
  
**  
  
  
“Wow, they’re really giving you a hard time.” 

They’re finally free three hours after Keith lands. The Val’run are a lizard alien race with a penchant for alchemy, and have sent a party of delegates to Earth to negotiate foreign aid. Shiro and Keith suffer through the first of many meetings, thankfully together. As much as it sucked talking about the exact amount of material provided for reconstruction aid, having Keith by his side and watching his face react made it more bearable to talk about numbers.  _  
_   
“And the negotiations have only just started. Wait until we get to the twelve-hour meetings.” 

Keith’s face turns sour, while Shiro tries to hide his sigh behind a compassionate smile. At least they aren’t alone in the struggle to make the Val’run accept their limited supply offers. 

The Galra blow had left Earth with more than enough matters to attend to, making it hard to send the much-needed material off to other planets. But peace came with a price, something Shiro and Keith were painfully aware of. 

“Please tell me you’re joking. I know why I prefer helping on-site,“ Keith groans, rubbing his temples. “This room gives me headaches.”   
  
“I wish I could do more out there, but at least I know being stuck in twelve-hour meetings is actually helpful.” It’s a sorry smile he sends in Keith’s direction, instantly regretting loading his worries onto Keith. He has enough worries already with his reconstruction missions out in the universe. In his daydreams, he follows Keith, helping out there, where there is more to do than sit in a chair and sign papers.   
  
“Shiro…” 

Shiro hopes he imagines the sadness in Keith’s voice or the frown on his face as he stops himself from talking. He knows he can’t leave the Garrison like this, not with his connection to the Atlas. Not with Sanda making it _very_ clear that it is of utmost importance he, as a Paladin of Voltron and Admiral of the Galaxy Garrison, becomes a role model and beacon of hope to all the coalition members. In the end, her words had made him sound more like a poster boy than anything else. The admiral badge he always dreamed of receiving came with a sour price.   
  
A knock on the doorframe snaps Shiro out of his thoughts.   
  
"Black Paladins, sirs?” It’s one of the diplomats who slithers his way into the room, two of his six hands filled with colorful baskets. “Please accept these fruit baskets as thanks for welcoming us into the Atlas during the negotiations. We heard your culture cares a lot about fruit baskets.” 

Shiro knows better not to laugh about the quite typical human gift choice, and so he smiles politely instead. Once he’s taken his basket and thanked the diplomat, Shiro watches Keith accept his own gift, bowing with elegance and confidence. It makes Shiro feel weirdly proud. Gone is the scrawny boy that did not know how to handle his anger. The man Keith has turned into is settled, steadfast, knows his place and how to move and act. Shiro can’t help but let his eyes linger in awe for a second too long.    
  
Keith, always attentive and caring for him, notices his gaze. The smile he sends Shiro in return is tentative, barely a curl of his mouth. But it’s there for two seconds, aimed at him, as Keith tugs a lock of hair behind his ear before he turns back to the delegate, saying his polite goodbye. Shiro does not even see the delegate slither out of the room, as his gaze is still fixed on Keith.   
  
“So,” Keith breaks the silence between them with a cough. “Are you done for today? Would you like to catch up, grab a coffee or something?”    


“Coffee sounds amazing.” 

And it does, it really does. Even when the coffee they serve in the cafeteria is disgusting and it’s already too late in the afternoon for the coffee not to affect Shiro’s sleep. But it’s been months since they last walked the same planet’s surface and there is no way Shiro will let this opportunity slip.

“One meeting to go and I’ll be all yours,” he says afterwards, sure the next meeting will fly by quickly when he can look forward to his evening with Keith.

Their break together is over too soon, and it’s easy to linger a bit too long in Keith’s presence, the silence after their exchanged farewells longer than necessary. Keith’s eyes are wide open and expectant, his lips too inviting.   
  
It’s with a heavy heart that Shiro turns and walks without looking back.

A few seconds more and he would have left a kiss on Keith’s pretty mouth.    
  
**  
  
In the end, Shiro does not make it to the cafeteria that night.    


When he finally gets back to his room four hours later, it’s past dinner time and far too late for a coffee. He’s too tired to function, not worthy of Keith’s precious time, as he returns defeatedly to his room. His meek excuse for dinner consists of two fruits from the Val’runian gift basket that look close to bananas but taste a lot like peaches. They’re enough to stop his stomach from growling and keep him from the walk of shame to the cafeteria in the middle of the night. 

After he faceplants into his mattress, he idly checks the messages on his PADD with one hand. He sends Keith a sad smiley and gets, ‘It’s okay, you need to rest,’ as a reply, attached with a picture of Kosmo curling up on Keith’s bed. It makes him smile to see the big wolf curled up like this, taking up half of the mattress. He loves just how much the space wolf can switch from dangerous predator to lapdog in seconds and it would not surprise him if Kosmo thought he was still the size of a puppy, not taking up any space at all in the small cot in Keith’s quarter on the Atlas.    
  
_ Not sure how I’m supposed to catch some sleep tonight, tell Atlas she needs bigger beds _ .

Shiro’s first instinct is to invite Keith over. His bed is, in fact, big enough for two people—being Admiral had to come with at least a few amenities. '  
  
He vouches for groaning into his pillow instead.    
  
One week.   
  
‘One week and he’s gone again; you can do this,’ he tries to tell himself.   
  
Still, it’s the image of Keith in his mind that lets him sink into sleep.    
  
**   
  
The smell of coffee hits him first.    
  
It’s the unmistakable aroma of freshly ground espresso beans that mixes with a mumble of voices and the sound of music playing in the background.   
  
Everything feels cozy and vivid, from the colorful food display, over the handwritten menu in the back, to the marbled counter where people are lining up.   
  
It’s his turn in line faster than expected. And it’s when he hears a ring from the cashier that he spots the most devastatingly handsome barista with the most beautiful black hair, tied back in a low ponytail, that his world stops spinning for a minute.   
  
The black strands of hair are weirdly familiar, waving around sharp cheekbones before curling in the nape of a slender neck. Single flicks are rebelling against the hair tie, defying gravity. 

The pair of purple eyes, deep and mysterious, are mesmerizing. As they find Shiro’s, they soften around the edges, making something in Shiro’s chest flutter.    
  
Shiro’s gone when a beautiful voice calls out his name, lips curling around the ‘o’, before turning upwards into a smile. It’s so gorgeous he forgets how to breathe.    
  
Shiro knows too well how butterflies in his stomach feel, is familiar with the warmth spreading in his chest, and still, it catches him off guard as he’s asked what he wants. It’s embarrassing, really, how Shiro stutters out his order. The handsome barista does not seem to notice his disarray—or is only too polite to address the fact that he has to ask Shiro three times if he  _ really _ wants three loads of syrup and additional whipped cream.    
  
“How are you today, Shiro?” The beautiful voice asks instead and it makes Shiro’s toes curl when he notices that, yes, indeed, they have talked before. And yes, indeed, the barista is actually interested in him as a person. In him, with his boring management position, his grey hair in his early thirties and the dumb suits he has to wear to be taken seriously at work.    


“Ah, same old, same old.” Shiro is proud that his words do not betray him. Seeing the young man, probably just around twenty, with a black shirt that clings to his biceps all snug and inviting, Shiro cannot help but stare. He gets lost in watching the man operate the drip and pour steaming black liquid, focuses on long and delicate fingers at work and how the barista’s brow furrows in concentration.    
  
_ Get a grip, Shiro, it’s his job to be nice to you _ , he tries to tell himself. But it’s hard when the man in front of him turns and bends to grab milk from beneath the counter, presenting Shiro with the most amazing front-seat view of a really nice ass clad in skintight jeans. 

His brain short circuits at the thought of how nicely the ass in front him would look like, spread on his bed, wrapped in his sheets. And it takes all Shiro’s self-control not to make a fool out of himself and ask the barista if he wants to go out with him on the spot. 

Or if he wants to admire the thread count of his bedsheets. He’s sure the black hair would make an amazing contrast, spread out against the white of his pillow.

The barista turns around again and Shiro gulps, thankful the bar barista starts scribbling curved letters on his cup instead of presenting his backside to Shiro. 

“You’re early today,” the man says, ignorant of the people in the queue behind Shiro. It makes Shiro’s heart skip a beat, how both their worlds seem to narrow down to each other. As if it’s only the two and the hiss of the coffee machine while they share a smile. 

It’s easy to answer, “Couldn’t wait to see my favourite barista.” 

It’s even easier to feel charmed by the red sheen on the man’s cheeks. The other man is cuter like this, a bit flustered, trying to hide his blush beneath a concentrated gaze on the milk foamer. 

Shiro shifts to the end of the counter, which gives him an unhindered view of the barista’s bare arms at work. The precise and swift hand movements are sending another heatwave down his spine, making his skin tingle with excitement.   


If he was brave enough, he would lean forward on the counter and bend into the man’s space. Whisper in his ear how nice he could make him feel, how gorgeous he would look on Shiro’s bed.   
  
What comes out from his mouth instead is a stuttered, ‘Thank you.’

The man beams at him. There’s a short silence where Shiro swears they get lost in each other’s eyes before the man clears his throat and nods to the cup in Shiro’s hands.    
  
“Be careful, it’s hot. Like you.”   


Shiro’s brain stops functioning.   


He can’t help but stumble on the spot. His hands dangerously close to dropping the cup, as he looks upwards straight into the handsome barista’s face.    


_ Stars _ , how does one even flirt back? Ask for his number, remark on his beautiful eyes, bring up the thread count of his expensive linen?    
  
Instead, all he manages is a mumbled “wammyme”.

Shiro wants the ground to open up and swallow him immediately.   
“Stop flirting, there’s a line!” As embarrassing as it is to admit, Shiro is grateful for another barista to come to his rescue.   
  
The way  _ his _ barista shrugs with a pout is charming. As he shoots Shiro an apologetic look and makes his way back to the register, Shiro is compensated by a nice view on the barista’s backside and well...it could be worse.

“Nice view, isn’t it?” a voice beside him asks. 

“Yeah,” Shiro can only sigh. Because it is. It really is.   
  
As soon he realizes what he’s just admitted, Shiro spins around to face the short person swamped in an apron standing next to him. She grins back at him, her teeth flashed wide and her eyes glistening dangerously behind round glasses.   
  
“I’m Pidge. This is Hunk,” she explains, her hand pointing to another staff member currently busy passionately arranging pastries in the food display. “And do  _ you  _ have a name, Prince Charming?”    
  
“Prince Charming?”    
  
Hunk joins both of them as soon as the pastries are arranged to his liking. “Oh come on, you must know that he’s got the hots for you! Have you seen how he looks at you, man?”

The guy shrugs casually, as Pidge adds: “You’re the only one he draws hearts for.”   
  
Shiro looks at the cup in his hands. His name is in round letters, framed with hearts. There’s a number scribbled underneath, and the words,  _ Call me, Keith _ .  
  
His heart skips a beat.   
  


He’s not the only one.  
  
  
**  
  
  
Shiro starts from his sleep, realization slowly dawning on him. His hands find their way into his hair as he presses his palms against his eyes. The metal of his prosthesis making contact with his skin is a sharp reminder that it had only been a dream.   
  
It’s impossible to go back to sleep like this, his mind too busy trying to chase after the image of Keith in his dreams anyway. The only thing that lingers is Keith’s smile, warm, soft at the edges, where his lips curl upward.    
  
What lingers even longer than dream-Keith’s smile are Hunk’s words in his head. 

_ “You must know that he’s got the hots for you!” _   
  
Had his own wishfulness taken over the second his dream-self had slipped into action? His crush must be bad when even his dreams tell him the words he so desperately wants to hear. 

Because it was Keith, who has been looking at him like  _ that _ for the whole day whenever their eyes had met. Keith, who had lingered too long before they parted, Keith, who had preferred sharing a coffee with Shiro over seeing the other Paladins after months. Keith, who had been the first one to notice how tired Shiro had looked when he landed.

_ You’re my brother, _ Keith had said once. 

And as much as Shiro tried to accept his declaration, it was hard to suppress his feelings, and even harder to suppress them in his dreams. 

It’s with a sigh that he heads for the shower, trying to keep his thoughts from wandering to the image of Keith’s hair spread on his pillow. 

  
**  
  
  
There are dark circles underneath Keith’s eyes as he absentmindedly stares into his coffee at breakfast. Kosmo lays sprawled out on the floor next to him, face buried in his bowl, happily munching, interrupting his breakfast only to lift his head in a greeting as Shiro sits down.    
  


“Morning. Long night?” Shiro asks, concerned. It’s his ship Keith is residing in and he would feel guilty if his quarters were not to his liking.   
  
“Oh, yeah, Kosmo gave me a hard time. The bed’s too small.” Keith averts his eyes again to fix his gaze on the mug in his hands.    
  
“Let me see if we can fix that,” Shiro tries with a smile—a lost cause, he thinks. 

“Please don’t stress yourself, I don’t want to give you a hard time just because my wolf thinks he’s a pup.” There’s a groan in Keith’s voice and Kosmo looks up from his empty bowl with the biggest, most innocent eyes. He seems to know fully well it’s him they are talking about.   
  
Shiro just shrugs it off, adding it to his mental list of chores for the day.   
  
“Anything for you.” The words are out before Shiro can think twice and it’s only when he sees Keith’s eyes widen that he realizes his slip. So he tries to control the damage. “I mean...” His fingers find his face, scratching his cheek nervously. It’s his turn to avoid Keith’s eyes. “You’re my guest, you should feel as comfortable as possible.”    
  


“I already do, don’t stress yourself.” Keith lifts his hands in defense.    
  
“Don’t lie to me. Take this coffee here for example. It’s disgusting. You know what I miss? Ground beans, freshly brewed coffee… Not the dishwater they sell here. It’s the small things you miss after years of space goo.” 

Keith makes a face at the mention of space goo, and it reminds Shiro so much of any time Keith had tried drinking coffee before the Kerberos launch—it had always ended in him making the exact same face. 

The empty cup in front of him tells Shiro just how much Keith has matured, having acquired a taste for the drink and it’s funny, Shiro thinks, how emotional he can get over a single cup of coffee.   
  
“Though I simply can’t bring myself to like black coffee. I need tons of milk.” Shiro jokes. He had tried many ways to make the bitter taste of the Garrison dishwater more appealing but had failed every time.

“Let me guess. Your favourite is three loads of syrup and additional whipped cream?” Keith grins, and the words hit Shiro like a brick wall, too familiar to be a coincidence. 

“I... How did you…?”   
  
But of course, it’s always like this these days — before Keith can answer, they are interrupted.   
  
“Look who’s gathered here! My favourite admiral and his boyfriend!”    
  
It’s Lance, in flesh and blood, who flops down on the empty spot beside Shiro, making him shuffle over to make room.    
  
He must have arrived late the night before, early for the anniversary. And alone. Allura must still be trapped in politics back on Altea, Shiro assumes. It was very much like her to send Lance ahead, to give him time to be with his friends. Lance had never been a man for diplomacy meetings.    


Shiro’s pretty sure he can  _ hear _ Keith roll his eyes while he groans at Lance, too early for such a loud and obnoxious greeting. Lance must have aimed for entertaining the entire cafeteria with his words, and dread sneaks onto Shiro’s face. He knows how fast rumors spread in the Garrison and he definitely does not want Keith to feel uncomfortable walking the halls while people whisper about him behind his back.   
  
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Shiro explains with burning cheeks, lifting his hands in an appeasing gesture.

“Yeah, sure, and Pidge can fly.” It’s Lance’s turn to roll his eyes at them.

“Lance.” The name from Keith’s words sounds awfully close to a growl, but Lance ignores it as well, unfazed by Keith’s death glare.

“Anyways, good to see you safe back on Earth. How did Naxzela treat you?” Lance bends over to steal a piece of Shiro’s cheese, not bothering to chew it down before talking again. “Heard you ran into an angry mob of Galra?”   
  
“ _ Lance _ ,” Keith snarls with more emphasis, but it gets lost when Shiro can’t stop his worry from pouring from his lips as he turns to Keith.

“Hostile Galra? Why haven’t you told me about that?”    
  
“I…” Keith starts, clearly enraged – but as fast as his fury came, he calms himself with a sigh right after. “It’s nothing, really. I’m fine.” 

The way Keith’s eyes go all soft at him, features reading ‘please don’t ask’, makes Shiro want to reach over and caress Keith’s cheek while drawing him close. The thought of Keith being out there, having to fight his battles alone, tightens his chest. He’s fully aware Keith is capable of fighting, he’s one of the best fighters Shiro knows. Still, he can’t help from worrying from a distance, especially when he does not hear from Keith for days or weeks, when sometimes Krolia is the only source for any information of his whereabouts.   
  
How can he be at ease when his heart is fighting battles in another galaxy?   
  
“Oooh, look! You brought your furbaby!” With a loud yell, Lance jumps from his seat and kneels down next to the space wolf on the floor, musing his face with his hands and petting him, aggressively. “Hi, Kosmo. Who’s a good space wolf?” 

Shiro is not quite sure if he should be grateful for Lance interrupting his thoughts, but his shouting helped stop Shiro from doing something embarrassingly stupid, such as staring into Keith’s eyes for three seconds too long and getting lost. So he is kind of thankful. Still, the way Lance presses against the space wolf is unnerving.    


“Such a good boy, always here for me, even when your parents are bickering, aren’t you?” 

Shiro sees panic in Keith’s eyes as they both watch Lance ruffle Kosmo’s fur forcefully, tugging at his ears. But the wolf is quiet, silently enduring the weird human and his rough hands. 

“You wouldn’t leave me, would you?”   
  
“You sure you’re okay?” Shiro’s eyebrow lifts, examining Lace with a skeptical view.    
  
“Yeah, just... had a falling out with Allura earlier.” Lance's shoulders are slumped when he sits back up again. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “She really wants a  _ giant _ chocolate cake for the wedding. What’s the point of a wedding when you have to eat chocolate cake?!”

And all of a sudden, Lance lifts his head, eyes focused on Keith.   
  
“That’s it!” He exclaims, pointing his fingers at Keith’s chest. “Lend me your wolf!” 

His words make Keith crook his eyebrow. “Come again?”    
  
“You have to lend me your dog. So Allura will forgive me. Chicks love dogs. Have you seen how girls go crazy about cute dogs?” Lance’s hands make wild gestures, pointing at the space wolf, who only huffs at being called a dog.    
  
Keith crosses his arms in front of his chest, his face twisted in a stern expression. “No, Lance. Besides, I don’t want chicks to go crazy about me.” His words sound annoyed. 

Shiro chokes on his coffee. 

To his defense, he  _ has _ a good excuse, it’s the first time Keith has dropped any hints about who he is romantically interested in. It leaves Shiro with a sudden warmth in his chest, he does his best to hide it by averting the topic. 

“Why not ask Pidge if you can steal Bae Bae?” he asks in his best attempt.

“Dude, have you seen Bae Bae? She can’t compare to your cool and mysterious space wolf.” Lance sighs, running his hand through his hair before he stands up. 

“You know, you two are of no help. If you don’t want to lend me your wolf, that’s okay. In fact, I might look for Hunk. Maybe he can bake a chocolate cake and convince Allura with his magic baking fingers,” Lance explains and Shiro is not sure if his words are directed at them or meant to be lost in the void as he makes his way out of the cafeteria – not before leaving a last aggressive pat on Kosmo’s head.   
  
Shiro watches after him until Keith’s words catch his attention again. “You think Allura will change her mind?” 

Shiro has to chuckle. “Nah,” he shrugs. “It’s Lance we’re talking about. He’ll be fine.”  
  
They share a laugh that fills Shiro with warmth. Hearing Keith laugh will eternally be one of his favourite sounds in the galaxy.    
  
As the laughter dies down, Keith turns quiet, staring into his empty cup, cheeks red from the fading laugh. It’s enough of a shift to grab Kosmo’s attention, the wolf rising and placing his head on Keith’s lap, biggest puppy eyes looking up to his owner.    
  
“Sometimes I wish Kosmo could talk, so he would just… tell people to go away,” Keith explains while patting his wolf caringly, rubbing the spot behind his ears that Shiro knows is Kosmo’s favourite. Keith gets rewarded by a contented growl from his wolf.

“I’m pretty sure the only thing he would say is ‘Give me more food!,” Shiro jokes, while fishing for some remaining pieces of cheese from his plate, knowing full well it rewards him the attention of the space wolf. Kosmo crooks an eyebrow at him, clearly considering if it’s worth leaving Keith’s heartful pats for the minimal chance of a tiny bit of his favourite snack.    
  
In the end, Kosmo decides to stay at Keith’s side.    
  
“Haha, you’re probably right,” Keith smiles, making Shiro’s heart flutter. It’s always so nice to see a true, warm smile on Keith’s lips, the one that is mostly reserved for his mom and his wolf. “And belly rubs! He loves belly rubs. But don’t tell anyone.”    
  
“My lips are sealed.” Their eyes meet and the way his stomach flutters at their domestic banter makes Shiro wish every morning would start like this.    


“So, plans today?” Keith interrupts their pleasant silence, nudging his foot against Shiro’s toes. “Should we try that coffee thing again today?”   
  
Shiro hates his answer before it’s even spoken. “I’m afraid we’ll be trapped in the Val’run meeting for the rest of the day. Coffee has to wait.”   
  
Keith groans, his hand running down his face.   
  
“Remind me to get back to my mom for sending me. This is why we can’t have nice things.”    
  
**   
  
The meeting drags. The Val’run are friendly, but they have a tendency to talk in long sentences and make no pauses while speaking. 

It’s the perfect meeting environment for Shiro’s thoughts to drift off during an explanation of the planet’s ecosystem. It’s not his fault, really, the air circulation in the Garrison's meeting room is awful. 

He blames it on his lack of sleep when his thoughts find their way back to the conversation they had shared with Lance.

Back to Keith admitting he does not want women to chase after him.

Back to Lance calling Keith his alien boyfriend.   
  
It hasn’t been the first time someone had called them boyfriends, a couple, married even.    
  
Far from it — they hear it on a regular basis. He even remembers Krolia calling them partners when they had first shared the quarters of the Black Lion. She had been seemingly confused when Keith and Shiro did not share the bed. 

Back on the base, Shiro had heard it a couple of times, mostly from alien diplomats and from cadets whispering behind his back. Denying it was the easiest way to deal with the rumor anytime it came up.

It has a nice ring to it, though, Shiro thinks. Even nicer, if Shiro would actually be able to call Keith his boyfriend, partner, mate. Or even husband. 

_ Husband _ . 

He feels his cheeks get all warm at the sound of it in his head.    
  
As if he can read his mind, Shiro suddenly feels the warmth of Keith’s hand on his leg. It’s not to get his attention, though. At least Keith seems to ignore his glances, his view fixed on the Val’runian ambassador showing them pictures and maps of the villages that had been hit the hardest by the latest Galra attacks.    


Keith’s hand remains, though, his thumb drawing soothing circles into Shiro’s upper thighs.

When the meeting ends, Shiro has no idea what the Val’runian village looks, but his skin burns where Keith has touched him.   
  
  
**   
  
Late that night, Shiro is plagued by another dream.    
**  
** It starts with him sitting on a park bench.

There’s a coffee cup in his hands, its smell strong and inviting. The scene is a sharp change to the last ten years of deserts and mountain ranges.

He looks down at himself. His body is wrapped in the ugliest yet warmest sweater vest, and he is wearing thick frames that feel heavy on his nose. The bookbag on the bench next to him has papers spilling out of onto the ground – he knows they belong to his students and he has to laugh out loud.

Retiring from space missions had sent him down the academic pathway, huh?

And then in the blink of an eye, he is faced with a monster of a dog. It’s enormous. Its fur is thick and fluffy, tongue hanging out as it stands up on its hind legs to put its paws on Shiro’s knees. It’s the perfect position to lick over Shiro’s face – which it does.

“Kosmo!”

Shiro stops his lips from curling in disgust at the wet onslaught at the owner’s call. And his brain stops. He has always been weak for handsome men with dark hair and determination in their steps. The man is so attractive, with short black hair, and that is all Shiro really notices, since the dog turns and bounds to its owner and knocks him over.

“Kosmo, no—!”

It’s only thanks to fast reflexes that Shiro manages to jump up and spread his arms, just in time for the stranger to land in his embrace instead of colliding with the ground.

“Thanks for saving me.” The man’s voice is deep, husky. Their faces are so close, and as he looks up at Shiro, it’s easy to get lost in the man’s purple eyes. They remind him so much of the galaxies he’s teaching his students about.

Then they are toppling backwards and Shiro is pinned to the park bench, trapped between a pair of strong arms. Positioned like this, with the man towering over him, Shiro can count the freckles on the man’s nose and see his cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink.

As fast as it happens, the moment is broken.

The man straightens up. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into him!” He clears his throat and scolds his dog.

“It’s okay, I’m happy I could save you. One good deed a day, and such...” Shiro rises from the bench out of courtesy. And surely not to get closer to the stranger again.   


“Oh, I see, college prof at day, local superhero at night.” The man laughs and it’s the purest sound to Shiro’s ears. He never wants the man to stop laughing. “Tell me, hero, do you have a name?”

“Shiro,” he offers his hand, which the man gladly accepts.  
  
“Shiro the hero, huh?” Shiro has heard the joke at least a thousand times before, but it’s different when it comes from this man.

“Well, Shiro the hero, I’m Keith. Only Keith. No local hero, I’m afraid. And this little rascal is Kosmo.”

‘Little’ is a stretch for a dog that stands taller than his hip.

They stare at each other, smiles soft.

And then Kosmo leaps into the pond, and suddenly Shiro is falling too, tripped up by Kosmo’s leash tangled around his legs. As he sees the water rushing closer, Shiro braces himself for the impact.

But it never comes.

Hands wrap around his wrists; he opens his eyes to Keith’s gorgeous face.

“You saved me,” he whispers.

Keith beams, voice soft, “We saved each other?”

Kosmo barks, shakes his wet fur over the pair and breaks them apart. Shiro focuses on Kosmo as an excuse to look anywhere but Keith.

Kosmo’s eyes are sharp, “You know, he will always save you.”   
  
And Shiro’s mind stops.

Did the dog just talk?

“And now kiss him already, we don’t have all night.”

_ What? _

Keith is gazing at him, the expression on his face confused, but lips curving into a shy smile.    


Shiro finds himself agreeing to the dog: Kissing Keith sounds very appealing. So he dips his head to do exactly this.   
  
Keith’s eyes widening in surprise is the last thing Shiro sees before he wakes up.  
  
**

As he lays in the darkness of his room and feels his heart burst against his ribs, Shiro tries to tell himself it’s the weirdness of the talking dog that keeps him from falling back to sleep. 

In reality, it’s the thought about Keith’s face so close to his that he could feel Keith’s hot breath against his lips.    
  
And even in his dreams, Keith had a penchant for saving him.    
  
Of course, dream-Keith would. He had proven his will not to give up on Shiro time and time again and Shiro… Shiro had thanked him by switching Lions and trying to avoid Keith because of a conversation neither of them had been brave enough to have. 

It’s not that Shiro doesn’t want to be brave.

Loving Keith and setting him free is his own kind of brave.

Being too far away from Keith hurts. Longing from the distance, not knowing if Keith is in danger and having to sit still when he knows his heart is fighting battles Shiro cannot save him from. But it still hurts sitting next to him during meetings and not being able to graze his fingers over Keith’s cheek, not able to kiss the sadness from Keith’s eyes. 

Shiro had thought it would be easier, giving Keith the freedom to decide for himself and not run after Shiro to save him every other day.

Oh, what a fool he’s been! Because next to pining for the stars, restraining himself from holding Keith, kissing him, loving him...turns out  _ that _ is the hardest part.  
  
Harder still when he knows he has to say goodbye again in a couple of days, when he’s forced to sit behind his desk and wait for Keith’s next visit – both of them not knowing when it will happen. 

_ If _ it will happen.   
  
The thought alone sends a shiver down Shiro’s spine.    


He knows it’s his job, his people and the peace on Earth depend on his smiles. Iverson and Sanda had told him as much, over and over again.    
  
And still a small part of him wishes it would be easier for him just follow his dreams as Keith does. Just as he did years ago that, a decision that had cost him his first relationship, his arm and his life. 

Instead, chasing his dream had brought the Paladins, had brought peace to Earth.    
  
Had brought him back to Keith.   
  
Keith, who is his constant reminder that Shiro’s heart calls for the stars.   
  


**  
  


It’s a sure thing that the gym is empty at five in the morning. Even with their military sleeping schedule, most officers don’t find their way to the gym for early-morning exercise before six. Shiro has learned to appreciate a workout in solitude – so it surprises him even more as he’s met with the familiar blue fur of the space wolf as soon as he enters the gym. And more importantly, the well-known sounds of Keith as he’s pummeling a boxing sack.   
  
With mixed feelings, Shiro lingers in the doorframe, watching. Keith is a good fighter, one of the best he knows. Shiro is quick to recognize the Galran traits in his technique. It fills him with a certain pride how much Keith has grown from the young hothead that did not know how to handle his anger into the young man who manages to make thrashing a punching bag look good. 

It’s a traitorous Kosmo that catches Keith’s attention as the wolf barks in a welcoming greeting before coming up to Shiro to demand pats.    
  
“Get off of him,” Keith barks at his dog, his gaze not wandering from the punching bag, and Shiro knows him too well to realize the subtle hues of anger that only a stressed Keith emits.   


“It’s fine, Keith,” he tries to calm him, as his hands slide into the soft fur behind Kosmo’s right ear. Even if it's only been a dream, Kosmo has helped him to get closer to Keith. It feels just right to reward the wolf for his attempt. 

Keith makes his way over to Shiro, drying his face with a towel. Shiro watches a devious sweat drop escape the towel and land on Keith’s well-built chest. He has to gulp. He will never be over how much Keith has grown. And how hot he got.   
  
Keith steps closer, “You’re up early. Couldn’t sleep?”

Shiro’s soul leaves him the second Keith throws his head back, baring his neck to him. “No...just a thousand thoughts in my head.”

Technically, Shiro’s not lying, and it’s hard to think of a good excuse with the sight in front of him.   
  
“And you? Kosmo gave you a hard time again?” Shiro asks, trying not to make a fool of himself.   
  
“Yeah, he’s literally haunting my dreams.”

There’s the slight undertone of resentment in Keith’s voice. Shiro is sure Kosmo does not deserve the angry glare Keith sends into his direction. So Shiro offers the only way he’s sure will help Keith fight off his anger.   
  
“Up for a round?” The way Keith takes two seconds longer than usual to accept is enough to tell Shiro something is off. 

Still, Keith nods towards the mat.   
  
“Best out of three?” Keith’s voice is filled with determination, his lips curve up in a smug grin, as they drift towards each other. 

They fall back into their usual way so easily.   


Keith’s moves are elegant, feline even, his training with the Blades clearly visible in every step, every hit. And still, Shiro feels there’s something off, something bothering Keith, when his movements are fueled by anger more than by precision. Keith misses his steps more than once, trying his best to gain the upper hand in their dance and failing every time.

And he makes it easy for Shiro to pin him to the mat three moments later.    
  
Afterwards, Shiro will insist that he had not planned it. It was the result of Keith trying to a sidestep a well-placed punch. And stumbling in the process.    
  
Out of instinct, Shiro reaches for Keith’s hip the same second Keith’s hand flings out to clutch at Shiro’s shirt. And still, it’s not enough, Keith’s momentum too strong a force, making Keith’s fall backwards, pulling Shiro with him.   


The pose they find each other in is too familiar, especially when Kosmo starts barking happily in the background. Keith’s eyes are even more beautiful up close when it’s not a dream.  
  
“I…” It’s Keith’s stutter that snaps him out of his thoughts. “I need to go.” 

Keith’s words catch him by surprise, making it easy for him to flip Shiro over and stumble to his feet, escaping. 

Shiro watches him go, heart pounding and heavy.

**   
  
One very long and cold shower later, Shiro loses himself in another diplomatic meeting.

It makes his head hurt with numbers and leaves his heart empty with the absence of Keith.   
  
He’s definitely not made for this, not when all he can do is sit around and listen. Iverson shows him the exact timetable for the upcoming quarter and there’s not a single space mission for Shiro planned.   
  
So he messages Keith.

_ Tell me something fun, I need something to cheer me up. _

Keith’s reply is a picture. It’s a nebula up close, and Keith sends another message to explain that one of his latest Blade’s missions had led him close to the Andromeda galaxy.  _ Sorry it’s not funny, but I only have some of Lance’s memes on my PADD. Believe me, you don’t want to see them _ .   
  
Shiro has to catch his breath at the beauty of the picture. He’s lost his heart to space long ago, the first time in a spaceship on his way to Kerberos, the second time in the viewport of the Castle of Lions. Seeing the picture now feels like falling in love all over again.   
  
He types,  _ Wish I could be there _ , instead, before Iverson coughs to get his attention. His heart hurts, even more, when he reads Keith’s reply once the meeting is over.

_ What’s stopping you?  
  
_ _ Yeah _ , he thinks.

_ What’s stopping him?  
_   
  
**

  
It’s only been two days, but meetings without Keith are not the same when he can’t make faces or inside jokes. Or Keith’s hand is not warm against his thigh.   
  
So when they meet the other Paladins for dinner that night, Shiro lets out a deep breath as Keith slides into the chair next to him.

His chest feels warm at the sight of all former Paladins gathered at the same table, sharing potatoes and juniberry wine between them. It’s still two days until the anniversary, but all of them had made sure to come early. 

Even without the lions, their bond remains just as strong.

As Allura just arrived on Earth that morning, there’s only one topic circling their conversation: the royal wedding. Since peace has finally come to Altea, both of them finally had a second to breathe – enough to actually start planning the festivities.   
  
It’s nice to just sit there and eat Hunk’s amazing culinary inventions while watching Lance and Pidge bicker about color schemes and cake flavors. 

Keith next to him is quiet, as usual, but Shiro can see there’s still something off. He feels brave enough to let his hand slide up Keith’s leg,and is rewarded by Keith looking up from his food and into his eyes, his expression all soft.  
  
Shiro is in deep. Way too deep. 

It’s a loud laugh from Hunk that breaks the spell. Keith returns to his food, while Shiro distracts himself by asking Allura about her plans for the reception. Though their moment is gone, Shiro feels comfortable enough to draw circles against Keith’s thigh. And when Keith’s hand slips down to give his hand a reassuring squeeze, Shiro throws all intentions to ever let go overboard.    
  
He can’t stop sending fleeting glances in Keith’s direction while he talks to Allura sitting across the table. Especially when Romelle starts asking Keith what a Bachelor’s party is and why Lance would like to get drunk and sell nonsense to her. 

Allura knows just too well how to get his attention back, clearing her throat every time Shiro’s eyes linger too long. He blushes and gives her an apologetic look. Allura rolls her eyes but repeats how she does not want a ‘poofy princess dress’ for her wedding. Her wild gestures make the light reflect off her ring.

It’s beautiful — chaste, nearly — a simple silver band except for the stone, a perfect blue gem made for a perfect queen.

Shiro’s eyes wander to Keith’s hand — it’s too easy to envision Keith wearing Shiro’s ring, a black and elegant band, nothing fancy, but simple and smooth just like Keith. 

He lets his thoughts drift off. 

Until he notices the awkward silence. 

Everyone's staring at him, waiting for an answer to a question he has not heard. 

“See, Shiro  _ also  _ says no to chocolate cake,” Lance breaks the silence. “It would ruin whatever diet he eats to maintain all — ” he gestures to Shiro broadly, “ —this muscle-y stuff.”

Keith shakes his head, “Why are you so against chocolate cake?”   
  
“ _ Keith _ , chocolate melts in summer,” Lance explains, though Shiro is pretty sure that same rule doesn’t apply to chocolate cake. 

Allura squints at Lance, “Who says the wedding will be in summer?”   
  
“I want a beach wedding!” Lance exclaims.   
  
Pidge’s face is priceless, as she says, “But I don’t want to get sunburnt watching the two of you making out.” 

“How about spring?” Allura suggests, to interfere before Lance can get back to Pidge. “I bet everything looks lovely with all the juniberries in full bloom.”  
  
“How about Christmas? I l _ ove  _ Christmas weddings —think of all the  lovely cake ideas for Christmas weddings,” Hunk notes and Romelle is quick to agree. Her first Christmas on Earth had turned her into a full-on Christmas lover.    
  
“But winter weddings are cold,” Keith remarks and Lance rolls his eyes at him, “Dude, you’re such a Scrooge.”   


Keith is visibly confused. “A what now?”    
  
“The man from the old Christmas tale!” Lance explains, but still finds Keith at a loss.

“Oh right, a Christmas Carol?” Hunk comes to Lance’s rescue. “It was running on TV every year.”

Honestly, Shiro is not listening anymore. It’s charming how puzzled Keith looks. His lack of pop culture reference really needs serious work. Shiro can already picture the two of them on the sofa or bed, binge-watching old movies while cuddling. 

Sounds pretty perfect to him.    
  
“What was it about?” Romelle asks.    
  
“Basically, there’s this bad guy who hates Christmas and treats his employees like shit,” Hunk says.

Lance chimes in: “And then he has these dreams and gets visited by three ghosts of the past Christmases.”

Pidges elbows him in the ribs. “You’re telling it all wrong!” she groans.   
  
“Yeah? I wanna see  _ you _ do a better job.” Lance glares at her.    
  
“I will!” Pidge glares back at Lance. And continues. “So three nights, three dreams, ghosts bring him to the past, present and future Christmases. He changes from hating Christmas to loving Christmas. The end.” There’s a self-sufficient grin on her lips as she finishes the story.   
  
“So basically he has three dreams to make him realize his love for Christmas? That’s wonderful!” Allura beams, excited. 

_ Huh _ .

Shiro nearly chokes on his drink while he can feel Keith stiffen beside him. 

That concept seems oddly familiar.    
  
**   
  
Shiro can feel the juniberry wine go to his head by the second glass after dinner. He hates to leave the group just when everybody got together like this for the first time in a year, but he has a meeting with Iverson first thing in the morning.

The fact that he hopes for another one of the dreams that feature Keith might also fasten his decision to call it a night. He’s expecting the groans of the other Paladins, asking him to stay for another round. What he does not expect is Keith rising to his feet. 

“I’ll go with you,” Keith’s announces, the wine painting his nose a cute pink. It must have been his Galra heritage that had Keith tipsy way easier than the other Paladins. Shiro still remembers Pidge laughing heartily over the fact that she could drink Keith under the table – and Keith nursing the worst hangover the next day. 

With a wave, they say their goodbyes before they make their way back to the quarters in the Atlas. 

Compared to the Castle of Lions, Atlas is small, and still, there’s enough space for a huge crew to spend several months in – Shiro could constantly feel her buzzing with excitement for their next big trip since she was grounded a year ago.    
  
Shiro hopes he can take her for another ride soon - even if this hope isn’t all too selfless. Atlas also longed for the stars.   
  
It’s after a few steps in silence, that Shiro’s remembers their talk about Keith’s quarters. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t have time to take care of your room yet. Would you like a bigger bed? Or should we look for a bigger room?” He asks, careful.

As with all the Paladins, Shiro’s made sure Keith would always have a room on his ship. It seemed an unspoken agreement how all of the Paladins preferred staying on the ship during any visit to earth instead of their offered rooms in the Garrison housing. It might have been their time on the Castle of Lions that made them long for the faint buzzing of the engines and the closeness to their team members. 

Keith’s room is close to his own quarters. But if he wanted a bigger room, things could be arranged. He couldn’t be selfishly longing for Keith to stay close when the room made Keith lose sleep. 

“It’s fine.” With his hands in his pockets, Keith paces next to him, his steps way too straight for someone who had one too many drinks.    
  
“Ah... I assume a bigger bed would be handy? If you ever feel like bringing a partner with you.” It’s a weird idea, and Shiro has no idea why it suddenly hit him. He feels his cheeks burning and he’s sure the alcohol is getting to his head, making him have weird thoughts.

Keith is far too gorgeous and amazing to stay single forever. 

“A partner?”

Keith’s eyes bore into his head, even when he tries to avert his face. It’s a difficult topic, one they haven’t broached in a long time, and he’s not sure he wants to get distracted by Keith’s lovely face – and do something stupid.    
  
Like gently touching a strand of Keith’s beautiful hair, tucking it behind Keith’s ear to give him an unhindered view on his eyes. 

Shiro shrugs instead, letting their shoulders bump. “You must be popular with all the Galra on Daibazaal.” 

He’s sure it’s the jealousy speaking by now, as he tries his best to smile while he wills his voice not to betray him.

“Shiro.” Keith’s gaze is sad, clouded.    
  
Shiro’s skin burns where Keith’s fingers dig into the fabric of his uniform.    
  
“Shiro. There are no other men,” Keith explains, determined.    
  
_ ‘No other men. No other man. No other…’ _   
  
The words run wild in Shiro’s head. Keith’s couldn’t want him. Not like that.   
  
_ He’s got the hots for you!  _ Shiro hates how the words Hunk had spoken in his dream hit him now, of all times.   
  
“I…” Shiro knows his face betrays him that second, with his eyes wide open and his lips apart. Stars, even the tips of his ears are warm, too warm for his liking.    
  
“Shiro…” His name on Keith’s lips is the most beautiful sound. Will always be, Shiro thinks, too intoxicated by Keith’s presence to laugh about how cheesy it sounds in his head.    


“Keith...” His brain forgets how to form proper sentences as he bends forwards, his heart hammering in his chest.    


For the first time in months, he feels brave.   
  
“Yes?” Up close, Keith’s answer is a whisper, breathed in the space between them. The way Keith’s shifts towards him, the way there are only inches between them, sends shivers down his spine. It gets worse when Keith’s tongue peeks out between his lips in an attempt to wet them.   
  
Shiro can feel the blood rushing in his ears as his eyes flicker to Keith’s lips.    
  
Pink, inviting. 

Too inviting.

So Shiro does the only right thing he knows. 

He steps back.  
  
“I should be heading to bed. Good night, Keith.”  
  
Shiro hates himself for the mere thought of pressing his lips to Keith’s. Of taking advantage of a drunk Keith. Of ruining their friendship because he couldn’t stand the idea of other men sharing Keith’s bed.   
  
But most of all, Shiro hates to see the sadness in Keith’s eyes.    
  
“Good night,” he hears Keith say to his back and it’s so hard not to turn on the spot.

The sadness in Keith’s voice breaks his heart.  
  
  
**  
  
  
That night, Shiro finds himself at a wedding.    
  
It’s not just any wedding, he notices, as he sees Allura in her head-turning-ly beautiful, sleek wedding dress, hair pinned charmingly and waved with flowers, as she and the groom cut the cake and share a few bites. Lance laughs about the chocolate flavor and it makes Shiro smile, even though he does not remember why it sounds so familiar.    
  
He hates his ex for dumping him two weeks before the wedding and he hates how he loves Allura too much not to visit her wedding, even if his plus one did not show up, leaving him seated between loving couples and a bottle of champagne. The newlyweds stop by his table as they make their way back from the candy bar.    
  
“Both of you look amazing. Congratulations,” he says.    
  
“Please, have some cake, it’s delicious!” Allura places her hand on Shiro’s shoulder in a comforting gesture.    
  
“Yes, especially the chocolate one!” Lance adds, as Shiro shakes his head again and lowers his gaze to the flute in his hands.

“I’m... not very hungry.”    
  
“Psst.” Lance must be a fool to think that Shiro does not notice the way Lance suddenly nudges Allura with his elbow, nodding his head the direction of the bar. It’s nearly comical how she lets out a sigh.

“He just went through a tough breakup. I don’t think this is the right moment,” Allura explains, but Lance is unstoppable.    
  
“Shiro, my man.” Lancy slides into the empty seat next to him. “Allura told me all about that asshole. You know, you clearly deserve someone who supports your dreams. Not someone who forces you to choose!”

All the attention only makes him feel uncomfortable. The wedding was about celebrating love, not wallowing over exes. So Shiro tries his best to wave him off. “Thanks, Lance, but today is about you.”    
  
“You know...” There’s a suspicious sparkle in Lance’s eyes as his voice gains a whole new level of smugness. “I just happen to know there’s a certain man in the groomsmen who is awfully single and awfully hot. Just don’t tell him I said he was hot.”   
  
Shiro lifts an eyebrow. “I really appreciate your gesture, but I’m sure I just need some time,” Shiro says. The fake smile on his lips hurts.   
  
“Shiro.” Allura’s voice is soft as she speaks his name. But whatever she wants to interpose gets swallowed by the DJ calling for the bride and the groom.    
  
“I’m afraid we’re needed. Just think about it,” Lance explains, as he grabs Allura’s wrist to head for the dance floor. 

Since his glass is empty anyway, Shiro decides it’s time for something stronger than champagne. So he heads for the bar as the newlyweds prepare for their first dance. 

Their dance is lovely, romantic, with a sappy song and Lance trying his best to avoid stepping on Allura’s feet. Both of them laugh each time it happens. Over the rim of his glass, Shiro watches the couple lost in each other as they sway to what must be the corniest love song Lance could have found.   


“Hate to break it to you, but you won’t find happiness at the bottom of that glass.” A voice draws him from his thoughts, and Shiro has to admit the voice is quite nice. The perfect fit to its owner, as a quick sideway glance reveals. 

The man approaching him is handsome, striking a picture in his dark red suit and his black hair curling in his neck.    
  
“Says who?” Shiro lets his eyes settle back on the glass in his hands, the ice cubes suddenly very interesting.    
  
The stranger’s words hit too close to home.    
  
“Believe me, I tried, haven’t found it yet, and I’m at round three,” the man laughs.   
  
As his gaze focuses on his own third round, Shiro’s not sure if he should be embarrassed. He has no time to do so anyway. The man decides to flop down on the barstool next to him.    
  
“Let me guess, bad break-up?” His voice is clear and charming.    
  
“How did you know?” Shiro dares to side-eye the man as his drink arrives. Two can play the game and he isn’t here to cry over broken hearts to a stranger. There are better ways for a first impression. Especially on someone as handsome as the man next to him.   
  
“See the same face every morning in my mirror, too easy to recognize,” the man shrugs and takes his glass to his lips, downing a big sip of whiskey at once. Shiro can see his lips curl in disgust.    
  
“Sorry to hear that.” 

The man orders a gin and tonic and lets his knuckles wrap around the glass as soon as the drink arrives.   
  
“So, bad break-up?”   
  
The stranger doesn’t seem to mind Shiro's nagging question, not when he lets his gaze fall to Lance and Allura on the dance floor —i t’s sickeningly sweet to watch. “It was nice while it lasted. But that shit those two have?” He raises his glass in the direction of the swaying couple. “That’s the real thing.”   
  
“I’m Shiro, the best man.” Shiro offers his hand and the stranger reaches for it immediately.

“Keith. One of the groomsmen.” They share a smile as Keith scoots closer and takes off his jacket. Shiro gulps at the lite frame and the well-fitting dress shirt, but what really pulls him in are Keith’s eyes, dark and mysterious, like the night sky.    
  
He’s beautiful.   
  
Their words come easy. They talk like old friends and it’s easy for Shiro to open up to him over another round of drinks. It’s definitely not planned, but everything falls into place when he tells Keith about his ex-boyfriend. “That’s bullshit, you should follow your dreams!”    
  
“Yeah, bullshit.” Shiro empties his glass and slams it on the counter.    
  
It’s so easy to extend the hand to the handsome man he’s just met. 

‘You believe in soulmates?’ Shiro catches himself thinking, but can’t bring the words out, so he asks instead: “Wanna dance?”

He blames it on the four drinks when he does not remember much of their dance later, it’s a mere press of bodies and a lot of laughter, leaving his toes hurting from Keith stepping on his feet and his cheeks hurting from grinning too much. 

Shiro also does not remember how exactly they made it outside. 

What he remembers, though, is how hot Keith’s skin runs, especially against his lips, as he mouths at Keith’s neck. He remembers how Keith’s hair feels amazing as his fingers delve through it.    
  
And,  _ oh _ , Keith’s tongue knows exactly what it can do.  
  
  
**

He needs to change his sheets.

It’s the third dream in a row that has made Shiro jump from his sleep. Far more flustered, and far more aroused than he would like to be, Shiro sits up, his hands palming his face as he tries to clear his thoughts.   
  
The image of dream-Keith on his knees in front of him surfaces, unbidden, and he groans.   
  
He can’t think of his best friend like this. As appealing as he looked with his glassy eyes and hair tousled, and… 

A splash of cold water hits his face in his attempt to stop the thoughts that are definitely not appropriate. A look in the mirror shows him his flushed cheeks and his bed-ruffled hair, and he breathes in. Two deep, long breaths leave him before he makes his back to his bed.

_ ‘That’s bullshit, you should follow your dreams.’ _ Dream-Keith’s words echo in his head.   


Even after all these years, it’s hard to get Adam’s ultimatum out of his head, but Keith… if anything, tonight’s dream showed him once again how selfless and supportive Keith is towards him.    
  
Keith had always been there for him when he needed him. And Shiro wants to be the same for Keith. A safe haven, a person to always come back to. He wants to support him as best as he can. 

But support does not imply taking advantage of Keith’s drunk state. Support does imply having control over his stupid crush and not putting additional pressure on Keith.

Not when the stars call for Keith.    


But how’s he supposed to move on, when his the longing for Keith is burning like a wildfire? In every reality, in every dream, they would find each other, again and again. As if they were connected by the red thread of destiny his grandparents had once told him about.   
  
Destiny. Shiro sighs. 

If anything, he was the planet, and Keith was the sun, a pulling force that had him revolve around Keith.

So close and yet so far.   
  
**    
  
As soon as he spots Keith at breakfast, he can’t help but cast his gaze downwards, avoiding eye-contact. Dream Keith has been too real – his eyes too realistic and his moans…

“Morning,” Keith mumbles into his bread roll, his own gaze rigidly fixed on Kosmo who’s wagging his tail. “Sleep well?” Keith seems unnaturally flustered, the way his cheeks are tinged red. The silence between them is oddly strange, filled with unspoken words.    


It’s the first time Shiro’s actually thankful for Lance chiming in, breaking the silence.

“After sleeping on it, I think I could be okay with chocolate cake. I mean, if it makes Allura happy,” Lance explains, his hands widely gesturing as he sits down beside them. '  
  
Shiro’s eyes widen at the mention of chocolate cake.    
  
“Shiro, you okay?” Lance asks.   
  
“Uh...yeah, just the chocolate cake, and the talk yesterday — I dreamt about your wedding — ”

Keith’s coffee cup falls to the floor with a loud clatter.   
  
“You dreamt about their wedding?” Keith snaps.

“Yeah? I was Allura’s best man, can you imagine?”   
  
“Oh come on, Shiro, Allura would totally make you best —”  
  
Keith’s chair falls backward when he jumps up, his only explanation, “I’m sorry, I have to search for Pidge,” before he leaves the room. Kosmo raises his head in confusion, but teleports to his side and tags along .   
  
“What’s with him?” Lance asks as he watches them, stuffing more bread into his mouth.    
  
“I...”

_ I don’t know, _ Shiro wants to say, but he has a nagging suspicion that he does, in fact, know. 

“Must have been the lack of sleep making him crazy.” Lance doesn’t seem to mind that his mouth is still full as he talks. “Believe me, you don’t want to sleep in the quarters next to him. Didn’t know he could be so  _ loud _ .”  
  
“Why was he loud?” Shiro asks, knowing how much his beauty sleep means to Lance.   
  
“Well, I forgot my earplugs  _ one _ time and I’m waking up to  _ that _ .”The gesture’s Lance makes are not really helpful.   
  
“I’m lost, Lance,” Shiro tries again and Lance only squints at him before he groans.   
  
“ _ Dude _ , he must have had one of  _ those  _ dreams last night!” The way Lance’s eyebrow rises up in a suggestive manner finally flicks the switch in Shiro’s head.

_ Oh _ .   
  
  
**  
  


Shiro does not get the chance to talk to Keith about the weirdly coincidental dream.   
  
Instead, he ends up strapped to a chair while Pidge types furiously on her computer, analyzing readings of the crystal in Shiro’s Altean arm.   
  
A couple of weeks ago, Shiro had asked her if she could work on a new arm for him, one that is not twice the size of his neck. One that is not the leftover of a war machine. And one that cannot wander off or get mistaken as a fetching toy by Kosmo.    
  
He had hoped to see Keith here as well, remembering his words to look for Pidge for help. But Pidge’s makeshift office lacks any attendance from Keith. Still, that does not stop Shiro’s thought from drifting to the man. It’s where his thoughts always are, anyway.    
  
So it’s only natural Pidge catches him daydreaming. And makes him spill the beans. 

“You know, Shiro, that  _ is _ awfully close to  _ A Christmas Carol _ ,” Pidge says while adjusting her glasses. There’s a very smug grin on her face and Shiro’s pretty sure she knows exactly which part of his dreams Shiro hasn’t told her about. “Just this time, it’s us Paladins showing you that you should finally get your shit together and confess.”    
  
“But…” Shiro starts, just to get interrupted by Pidge immediately.   
  
“No buts, Shiro. Both of us know it’s true. How many years has it been? You’ve been pining since the second you opened your eyes in this body.” 

Had he been so obvious?    
  
“On our way back to Earth, we could literally cut the sexual tension between the two of you with a knife.” Shiro’s glad he has a second hand he can bury his face in.    
  
The gesture makes Pidge lift her eyes from the screen, fixing him with her gaze.   
  
“You know there are bets going around? Lance actually lost money on the fact that you’re still not fucking.”

Shiro can’t help but groan her name against his palms.   
  
“Don’t blame me, we just care about you two.” Pidge shrugs. Still, there’s a wrinkle forming between her eyebrow as she lifts her hand to her face in a thoughtful gesture. “Still, it’s strange your dreams went all Christmas Carol-y. Did something happen?” 

Shiro welcomes the change of topic. His non-existent love life was not something he ever wanted to discuss with Pidge.   
  
“No, not really,” he explains. He thinks hard about it, but nothing out of ordinary comes to his mind. The dreams had started the day Keith arrived, sure. But Keith had been to the Garrison before without any reoccurring dreams haunting Shiro’s nights – and none of them as vivid as the current ones. Shiro would  _ definitely _ remember.   
  
Pidge just hums. She seems to have abandoned the numbers on her screen to attend to a more pressing matter. “When did they start?”   
  
“About three days ago? The day Keith arrived to join the Val’run treaties.” Time has a habit to fly by, especially when Keith is visiting the base, so Shiro has to guess.   
  
“Did I hear Val’run?” A familiar voice makes them both startle as the doors slide open and Coran strides in. “How are my favourite Paladins doing?”

It’s nothing unusual to spot the Altean every now and then, since Coran is a regular at the Garrison, using the base to his research in Terran and Altean mechanics. And still, Shiro finds it reassuring, a steady constant when all the other Paladins have left.   


“Hey, Coran! Do you know anything about the Val’run?” Pidge asks. Behind her glasses, Shiro can see the wrinkle between her brows grow deeper.   
  
“Aaah, the Val’run,” Coran seems happy to be of service, as he strikes what the Paladins lovingly dubbed his ‘story-teller-pose’. “Sly, but friendly creatures. Did I tell you about the time my great-great grand-cousin saved the life of a young Val’run princess? They offered him one wish in return, and all he asked for was a kiss from the princess and a fruit basket. Oh, the good old times!”   


And suddenly, Shiro remembers a certain banana shaped midnight snack.    
  
“Coran, do the Val’run have fruit with special powers? Let’s say bananas? That taste like peaches?”

“Oh, do you mean Pan’pus?” Coran twirls the ends of his mustache in his fingers, his eyes glistening with certainty. Shiro quickly recognizes the stance. Coran’s doing what he’s best at: explaining alien cultures. “They are also known as the ‘soulmate fruit’ and an old legend says you and your soulmate will stay together forever if you share a fruit of the same branch. Isn’t that romantic?” If anything, the explanation leaves him with more questions than before.   
  
“...Are they also known to induce weird dreams?” he asks.    
  
for two ticks before he answers: “No, never heard of that. But then again, you are the first human to try them, so good thing you haven’t died from it. Or worse, got the measles. Oh look, here we go! ” Coran bends over to look at something in Pidge’s calculations. “Have you tried quadrublifiying this number with the one here, Number Five?” 

Shiro can’t keep himself from laughing over Pidge’s frustrated groan at the nickname. He feels sorry for her, but the snarky remark from Pidge never comes as she gets lost in her numbers again, rambling something neither Coran nor Shiro can make sense of.    
  
Coran uses the moment of silence to get back into his alien history lesson. “Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, the Val’run!”   
  
Shiro sighs, as Coran drifts off into the ramble about one of his ancestors trying to trick a young Val’run lord into sharing a legendary banana—Pan’pus—with him. ‘Legendary soulmate fruit’, huh?  
  
Soulmates.    
  
Just last night in his dreams, he had called Keith his soulmate. Could that be a coincidence?    
  
The thought about Keith being his soulmate… Shiro’s chest suddenly feels tight. Sure, they had fought the universe to get back to each other. Keith had tricked fate and brought him back to life.   
  
But even if the Val’runian bananas really  _ were _ magical, soulmate magic still doesn’t explain the weird dreams he’s having.    
  
Space magic is weird, Shiro had learned that more than once over the past couple of years, but that kind of weird? It really makes no sense in his head.   
  
Lost in his thoughts, Shiro does not even bother to listen to Coran’s rambling. Looking for an excuse to distract himself, the ping on his PADD comes at the right moment. Keith’s name blinks on a red background, asking how he is.    
  
Shiro wants to answer the truth, wants to tell him how he just wants to scream and get out of the Garrison and away from Coran’s rambling. 

Instead he just texts,  _ Need some fresh air _ .   
  
Keith’s answer says,  _ Meet me at the hangar at 6? _ and it puts a smile on Shiro’s face. 

Keith always knows exactly what he needs.  
  
  
**

  
Shiro has a lifelong subscription to bad luck. 

He’s pretty sure of that, as he reads the big red letters on the signs next to the hoverbikes, the words ‘out of order’ laughing at him. 

A groan leaves him and Keith swears next to him. It’s the one time in months that Shiro wants to take the Garrison’s hoverbikes for a ride and, of course, he can’t.    
  
Could  _ anything _ on this damn base go as planned and not give him a hard time?   
  
Before he loses himself in his self-pity, he feels Keith’s fingers wrap around his wrist, pulling him along. The sun is about to set as Keith takes him to the Garrison rooftop. He flops down next to Shiro, their feet dangling off the edge.    
  
Shiro welcomes the silence between them. After the hectic agglomeration of meetings and Paladin dinners, it’s exactly what he needs: Keith’s non-judgmental presence while watching the sunset.

How nice it would be to always share these moments with Keith. 

But Keith leaves three days from now.   
  
Thinking about his departure makes Shiro. Keith inclines his head in his direction, an invitation to talk about what’s wrong..    
  
Shiro shakes his head, not wanting to worry Keith. “Tell me about the stars, Keith.”   
  
Keith crooks an eyebrow, waiting for any further explanation. But Shiro stays silent.    
  
“Vast. Pretty black out there. Pretty quiet without Lance nagging over the comms.”    
  
They share a smile at the thoughts of all the bickering they shared while flying their lions. The memories warm Shiro’s heart.    
  
“It’s pretty lonely though, most of the time. Can’t bring the wolf everywhere.”

“Miss me out there?” Shiro laughs as he lets their shoulders bump, trying to lift the mood. He fails.    
  
“You know I do.” Keith’s words are brutally honest.    
  
Shiro does not expect their weight to hit him so hard.   
  
*   
  
The silence fills the void between them once more as Keith’s eyes search for a constellation west of Venus.    


It brings Shiro back to the beauty of space, to fights in zero gravity, to the first time they steered the lions through a nebula, how he couldn’t pry his eyes from the vastness of space and the undiscovered territories lying in front of them. 

One year feels like an eternity. Nowadays the only stars he sees are the constellations he draws on his papers when he’s supposed to fill out forms. And the thing closest to a black hole is his stomach after a day of diplomacy meetings. 

It’s Keith’s voice that pulls him from his thoughts, not quite a laugh but more of a mere breath, his shoulders slouching slightly. It’s enough to draw Shiro’s attention from the stars in the sky back to the one right next to him.   
  
“I just remembered the last time we were here.” Keith’s voice is clear, his gaze fixed to the moon. “It was before Kerberos,” he huffs, one leg drawn up, arm resting against his knee.    
  
Shiro laughs at the memory, and he’s sure he’s trying to cover how flustered the thought makes him. “Oh god, we were so young. So full of dreams.”

It’s been a few years, two more for Keith, but he remembers the moment bright and clear.    
  
It was the last time he would see Keith for a long time. The smile on Keith’s lips after he had won their hoverbike race. Keith’s glassy eyes as he unwrapped the red leather jacket and slipped his arms inside. Back then, the jacket was still a bit wide, the arms a bit too long. Keith’s determined voice as they shook hands over exchanged promises.

It’s with a smug grin that Shiro brings it up, facing Keith instead of the night sky. “Remember what we promised each other?”    
  
“How you wanted to come back and be the greatest Admiral the Garrison has ever seen?” There’s a challenging twinkle in Keith’s eyes.    
  
It does not take long for Shiro to remember Keith’s promise. As if he could ever forget it. “And you wanted to be a pilot, breaking all the records.”   
  
“Seems like we finally got what we dreamed of.“    
  
When the space between them has filled with silence again, it’s heavy this time. 

Charged.  
  
Keith was right. Shiro  _ had _ always wanted this. Had wanted to prove himself that he could outrun his illness, could be the youngest pilot, the best, the Garrison poster boy.    


Now that he’s returned to Earth, now that the Garrison tried their best to press him into the part he had always wanted to play, his dreams seem to burst like a soap bubble, leaving him tired and lonely.    
  
How come something he had always dreamed of could make him feel so empty?    
  
“Sometimes I wish it was easier,” Shiro sighs, and it’s more to him as it is to Keith, as he lets his gaze wander to his fingers where they lay in his lap. “Like... imagine if we were just... I don’t know... working ordinary office jobs, not saving the universe.”

Maybe it's his dream-self speaking, the version of him that found Keith in a coffee shop. The thought seems repelling. If he couldn’t even make it one year behind his desk as the Garrison, how was he supposed to work a nine-to-five office job?    
  
“Nah, I think an office job would kill me,” Keith huffs, shifting slightly as he rests his elbows on his legs where they are dangling from the rooftop. “I’d need something exciting. I’d be a pilot.”    
  
His declaration made Shiro laugh. That was such a Keith way to answer. “You already  _ are _ a pilot!”    
  
“What’s your point?” Keith softly shakes his head, an honest smile on his lips that makes Shiro melt just a little.   
  
“You would make a great barista.” Shiro thinks back to his first dream. The Keith back then had seemed happy and the coffee had smelled amazing.    
  
But what seemed a good idea to Shiro made Keith pull a face. “Urgh, that’s customer hell.” He shudders. “I would spit in all the drinks.”    
  
“I’d still be your favourite customer.” Because Shiro would be. he would make sure to take a detour every morning, just to grab a coffee, if it meant seeing Keith’s smile.

“Oh, I might make an exception for you. Only spit in every second drink of yours.” The way Keith smiles at him is warm, mischievous. And it’s perfect.

“How kind of you,” Shiro laughs and Keith’s closes his eyes, a content smile on his lips, before he starts pondering again.    
  
“You know, you would totally rock that hot professor look. Making all your students swoon over you,” he explains, cracking an eye open. 

“And wear sweater vests like Adam? Please no.” Shiro has to laugh at the thought alone and when Keith joins, it’s liberating.    
  
Exactly the thing Shiro needs after his long day. Week. Year.

It’s Keith, only Keith.   
  
And he loves him so much his chest is bursting from all the warmth caused by sharing a simple laugh.   
  
How come in every reality he had seen in his dreams, they had found happiness together while in this one Shiro could not even make a first move? Could not even confess to Keith when the words were dying to fall from his lips?  
  
“In another reality, you think we’d meet?” He asks instead, trying to stop his feelings from overflowing.    
  
It takes Shiro by surprise as Keith turns to face him and reaches for his hand. But the determination in Keith’s eyes is enough to make his knees go weak. “I would make sure to find you.”   
  
“Keith.” It’s barely a whisper, the name rolling from his lips as easy as breathing itself.   
  
He does not dare to look at the spot where their hands meet between them, scared of bursting the bubble. But his skin is on fire where Keith’s fingers wrap around his hand between them, his skin a little rough as he lets his thumb graze over Shiro’s knuckles. It’s a stark contrast to the cold metal of the Garrison rooftop underneath his fingers.   
  
It’s only a couple of seconds before he shifts his hand just the slightest, enough to let their fingers intertwine.    
  
It earns him a careful squeeze, one he answers just as delicately.   


“Why do you even ask?” Keith’s catch his attention as they break the comforting silence. Still, his thumb continues drawing circles to the back of his hands. 

“I…” Shiro pauses, not sure how much exactly he wants to share. “I’ve been having these weird dreams lately.”    
  
“Uhum,” is all that comes from Keith. And it’s all he needs to know.   
  
“You’ve been having them too, haven’t you? Talking Kosmo, the coffee shop, the wedding...”    
  
It’s a sudden movement, the way Keith’s eyes widen in surprise and he turns towards Shiro, nearly toppling over in the momentum. “How did you?”    
  
“Figured as much,” Shiro explains as calmly as possible, even though he finds himself trembling from the mere thought about the dreams. His fingers squeeze against Keith’s once more, before Keith’s draws his hand back to hide his face behind his palms.

“But I.. the wedding.” From between his fingers, Shiro can see how red Keith’s face is by now.    
  
“The morning after the wedding dream. You acted all… flustered.” And Keith had every right to. Thinking about the wedding in his dreams leaves a pretty warmth in Shiro’s chest. “But the way you scolded Kosmo out of nowhere after the park? Should have figured it out by then.” He tries to play it cool by adding a joking huff at the end of his sentence but fails.   
  
Keith turns to him, his hands in his lap widely gesturing as his mouth opens and closes and opens against, though the words take a while to form.   
  
As they do, Shiro can hear the utter surprise in Keith’s voice. “Wait! You had these dreams, too. You were there when I wrote my number on your cup.”   
  
“In very lovely, curly letters, yes. Pidge pointed out the hearts on the cup.” Shiro chuckles as he remembers Pidge calling him out for watching Keith’s backside.   
  
“And when I pinned you to the bench.”

“Not your fault, but yes.”  
  
“And when you asked me to dance and I stepped on your toes and...” There are no words needed to describe what happened after their dance, when in their dream Keith pressed Shiro into a small alcove and went down to his knees. Not when Keith’s moans were still ringing in Shiro’s head. “Oh shit, Shiro, you should have stopped me!” Keith groans, burying his face in his hands. “I’m sorry!”  
  
“I’m not.” He can’t look Keith in the eyes, not yet, so Shiro averts his eyes to the stars as the confession stumbles from his lips. “At first I thought it might have been the stress,” he starts, as Keith breathes his name. He feels Keith’s fingers search for his, slotting into the open spaces between his fingers, not quite touching.   
  
“I _do_ need a vacation, don’t I?” Shiro’s chuckle is bittersweet as he remembers Iverson’s words: ‘ _Shirogane, You’re the most important diplomat here. You might want to reconsider that request for leave._ ’   
  
“They really give you hell here, huh?” There’s a sudden shift in Keith’s voice, his words stern and bitter, concerned.

“Yeah,” Shiro answers, and it’s not more than a whisper.

“And you’re not happy.” It’s not a question, Shiro notes as Keith’s words hit him like a wall.    
  
He’s right. So right.   
  
“You know, I pictured the whole savior of the universe thing a bit differently.” The fingers start to move, searching for Keith’s hand. Keith is faster, entangling their fingers, a comforting tapping against his knuckles. 

“Tell me how I can help you.” Not if. Because it’s just so  _ Keith  _ to offer himself so willingly.    
  
The words that fall from his mouth next are not what he planned, not what he should have said. 

“Have room for two on your space ship?” Shiro laughs because it’s a joke, isn’t it? Because there’s no way Keith would —

“Yes.”  
  
Keith’s answer presses the air from his lungs.

Shiro’s world tilts and his head spins so fast he feels dizzy from the speed. He searches Keith’s face for any sign that tells him he’s joking. 

That Keith will tell him it’s a lie any minute, will laugh at him for his stupid idea. 

He does not find any.   


“Yes?” Shiro asks tentatively. He finds Keith’s gaze soften instead, his eyes the same kind of glassy he remembers from their first hoverbike dive years ago.   
  
“Yeah. Let’s leave. Just the two of us,” Keith says the words as casually as if they weren’t about to change their whole lives. The tremble Shiro feels where Keith’s fingers are pressed against his tell a different story.  
  
It’s enough to bring a smile to his lips. “Okay,” Shiro says once, and then a second time, just to reassure himself.    
  
“Shiro, I...” His name falls from Keith’s lips, soft, full of love. It rings beautifully in his ears.    
  
“I… give me three days, I’ll inform everyone, fill the paperwork — ”    
  
It’s crazy, it’s too fast, it’s... Shiro finds himself rambling in his thoughts as he mentally makes a list of things he has to do before they leave. How he will have to face Iverson in the morning, asking for leave. How he has to leave instructions for Veronica, how he has to tell Lance…    
  
“Shiro.”    


It’s Keith who interrupts his thoughts.    
  
Keith who lifts their hands to his lips, hot breath grazing over Shiro’s fingers while Keith’s other hand delves into Shiro’s thigh, causing Shiro to search for Keith’s eyes, so soft for him, his voice forceful.    
  
“I give you five minutes.”    
  
And everything snaps into place.   
  
*   
  
Keith’s lips are warm against his mouth, a little chapped where his mouth curls against his, soft and grounding. Their teeth clacker from their sheer motivation, Keith’s fingers sliding into the fabric of Shiro’s pants as if his life depended on the kiss.    
  
It’s the most beautiful feeling in the world.    
  
Shiro can hear Keith’s make a small noise, needy even, as they part for air before colliding again and again. One of Shiro hands slides to the back of Keith’s neck, playing with the soft strands of hair he finds there, causing Keith’s to moan against his lips and Shiro’s heart sings — _ finally, finally _ _ — _ as he presses another kiss to Keith’s plush lips.   


“I love you,” he whispers as they part, and Keith’s face is red, but he chases after him for another kiss. Shiro doesn’t complain when he feels Keith’s tongue against his lips.    
  
It feels so right.    
  


*   
  
“Five minutes,” Keith whispers against his lips as soon as they part in the hangar half an hour later.    
  
The way down the stairs feels like both the longest and the shortest ten minutes he has ever endured.    
  
Kissing Keith was everything, from feeling warm and grounded, to letting his stomach tingle with butterflies. A faint moan fell from Keith’s lips every time they parted for air, drawing Shiro right back in greedily. 

So it’s no surprise Keith traps him between his arms for another kiss as soon as they make it back to the hangar. “Say it again,” Keith breathes against his neck, making it impossible for Shiro to wander off to his quarters.  
  
There are hands everywhere, hot breath, the soft skin of Keith’s mouth against his own. It makes Shiro adventurous, lets him make his mouth wander over Keith’s cheek, to his nose, to his forehead. 

Every inch of Keith feels made to be kissed. 

And the words spill from his lips easily.    
  
“I love you,” Shiro whispers again and again whenever his mouth finds Keith’s skin, hardly enough to show Keith exactly how much he means it.

Words could not express the way his body bursts from being allowed to steal the most beautiful kisses from Keith’s lips.   
  


*   
  
“You’re still in?” Keith breathes against his mouth when they part the next time. Shiro had not expected it to be so hard to miss Keith’s lips on his.   
  
“Yeah,” Shiro nearly stumbles over the words, his voice a bit too husky from their kiss. “Yeah!” He says again, this time with a bit more emphasis.    
  
“We should go,” Keith mumbles, as his fingers dig into Shiro’s uniform.    
  
He’s right, they should take advantage of the empty hangar, of nobody witnessing their departure before they’re two wormholes away, before reality and Iverson can get hold of Shiro.

But it feels too easy to bend in for another last kiss, Shiro’s mission to pack his bag forgotten when Keith’s teeth sink into his bottom lip.    
  
Strong hands against his chest stop their kiss, forcing the shortest gap between their bodies.   
  
“Shiro. Five minutes.” Keith’s voice is impatient as he looks up at Shiro and it’s the loveliest view in the dim lit of the fire exit light. With his hair tousled and his lips puffy and red from kissing, his eyes glassy and his cheeks a lovely tint of pink.    
  
Shiro’s always thought Keith was handsome, but this. This here was a whole new level of handsome.    
  
“I’ve waited years to kiss you, what are five minutes?” He bends down, chasing Keith’s lips again, but the hands against his chest remain stern.   
  
“You can kiss me all you want as soon as we break the atmosphere. Now go get your things. I’ll get Kosmo.” He hates to let him go, but Keith's voice is certain as he brings some distance between them. Even when he’s a little out of breath like this.   
  
“Don’t start the engine without me,” Shiro calls after Keith, not even remotely sorry that his eyes focus on Keith’s ass when he walks away.   
  
**   
  
Shiro feels like a little kid. 

As embarrassing as it is to admit, he notices a jump in his step as he heads for his room.    
  
Packing his bag in the dark of his room makes him feel even giddier, the flutter in his stomach feeling to right, so excited for the things to come. He does not have a lot of things to begin with, a few jogging pants, three tank tops and a few pieces of underwear.    
  
It only takes one look into his cupboard to decide he does not need dress pants and his uniform in space.  
  
Instead, he packs his PADD, his dog tags and the picture of the Paladins they had taken a year ago from the desk in his room.   


They really  _ are _ doing this.   
  
Shiro feels himself breathe for the first time in what felt like hours. 

This should be the moment when he regrets his actions, where he finally finds his rationality again and comes to his senses. the moment he realizes their actions are too hasty.

That moment never comes. 

Instead, every cell of his body burns for Keith, the places where his fingers had been just seconds before warm and tingling, his lips still wet and warm from their kisses. 

And as he turns off the light in his quarters for the last time and pulls the door shut behind him, it feels like waking from a dream.    
  
*   
  
When he makes it back into Keith’s ship, he’s greeted by Kosmo before Keith drags him into a hug, giving Shiro the perfect opportunity to kiss the crown of Keith’s hair.    
  
“You’re ready?” Keith’s words are a whisper against his shoulder. Shiro can feel Keith hold his breath once the words are spoken. His fingers graze Keith’s hair in a reassuring manner and he hums against Keith’s forehead.    
  
“Go ahead, take me with you. I don’t care where we’re headed, as long as I’m with you,” Shiro says as he lets his duffle bag fall to the floor and wraps his arms around Keith. There’s a press against his back where Keith’s fingers delve into the fabric of his jacket.    
  
He feels the same urge to never let go again.   
  
They stay like this for what feels like an eternity, slightly swaying, enjoying the presence of the other both of them had longed for.    


It feels like coming down from their kiss-induced high for the first time, leaving Shiro’s veins him with a beautiful feeling. A happiness he hasn’t felt in a long time.    
  
He's here, on a spaceship with Keith, about to head for the stars.    
  
There’s nothing he wants more.    
  
It’s Keith who breaks the silence as he lifts his head to look Shiro in the eyes. “We don’t have to do this,” he says, the tension simmering beneath his tone.    
  
Enough to make Shiro put his hands on Keith’s shoulders, bringing a short distance between them. It’s hard not to get lost in Keith’s eyes again, not when he’s finally allowed to.   
  
“I  _ am _ sure, Keith. I really,  _ really _ want this!” Shiro says, his words emphasized by a firm press against Keith’s shoulders.    
  
“But…” He waits for Keith to continue, but the words never come. The way he averts his eyes nervously makes Shiro cradle Keith’s cheek in his hands, his thumb grazing over the soft skin underneath Keith’s eyes. “Keith, are  _ you _ sure you want this?”   
  
Keith’s hand slides against Shiro’s where it’s resting against his cheek, and Keith turns his head the slightest to leave a kiss in his palm. When Keith finally looks him in the eyes, it’s shattering.    
  
There’s so much determination and love in his gaze, that Shiro has a hard time not to burst as Keith says, “Never in my whole life have I been so sure.”    
  
He chooses smiling at Keith, instead. “So am I.”   
  
The smile he gets in return is devastatingly beautiful.   
  
*

They send a short message to Pidge, informing her they won’t make it to the anniversary dinner. The reply is immediate:  _ FUCKING FINALLY! _ with three thumbs-up emojis.   
  
“We’re really gonna do this.”

The smile is still on Shiro’s lips and the adrenaline is rushing in his ears. He hears the distant murmur of the engines starting, the sleek noises of Galran technology ready to take them into orbit. 

Shiro feels like he’s waking up from a long slumber.    


“Ready for the stars?” Keith’s voice is determined as he flips the last switches that keep them from takeoff.    
  
Shiro takes the chance and reaches for Keith’s hand to let his lips ghost over Keith’s knuckles before he grabs the controls. 

  
“Lead the way.”    
  
  
****

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> I'll try my best to reply to comments and would love to hear what you think!
> 
> I throw some thoughts and fic-threads into the void via [Twitter](https://www.twitter.com/dropsofautumn), so follow me if you like ♡


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